An Early Graduate of Late Bloomer Doom

i cry at the thought of heartbreak i speed in the hopes to create a kaleidoscope alternative i crash to make the illusion last forever i die dreaming of you loving me as i cross over i become a dark artist painting light images i look for a penny, but i can't find the fuse box of my sanity suddenly, it is the third day and i do not remember a thing it is then that i learn the definition of unconditional love it is then that i understand the inner making of my broken heart it is then that a realize that i had no comprehension beyond the satisfaction of my self it is then that i reality hits me in the head like a hot anvil with cold thorns it is then that i discover to late.....that it is indeed too late.....